


Friends Know Best

by linearoundmythoughts



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: First Kiss, Friends Are The Worst™, Gen, M/M, Teasing, absolutely 100 percent silly crack nonsense, here's to hoping the gay part of Ed's brain defrosted correctly too, someone please be Ed's friend and help him feel it's OK to come out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-19
Updated: 2017-11-19
Packaged: 2019-02-04 07:51:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12766431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/linearoundmythoughts/pseuds/linearoundmythoughts
Summary: Ed won't stop complaining about (orwatching) the various men around him, and Grundy doesn't get what the big deal is, or why Edmakessuch a big deal out of it, because he supports his (super-confused) friend no matter what.(a.k.a. the goofiest, crackiest thing I've written in years)





	Friends Know Best

**Author's Note:**

> So I do wanna be super clear, if the rating and tags weren't enough, that this is just fun crack. I definitely don't think Grundy is in any shape to be pursuing any romances right now, nor do I really think Ed is! And that's why this fic isn't about that. I think like most of the fandom, I totally came to adore their friendship (god I know it's doomed but it makes me sad 'cause I love it!) after 4x05 because they're like two little kids. Their friendship reminds me of the ones I had when I was like 5 to 10 years old, so I wanted to write then having the kind of silly interactions reminiscent of that uh…level of maturity/stage of life, LOL.

“Eat food,” Grundy demands, pushing Ed’s hands to pick the sandwich that should be his lunch back off the plate Ed’s just tossed it on.

Flinching, less out of shock at the unplanned touch (he’s had long enough to get used to how often Grundy reaches out without forethought) and more from already having rattled nerves, Ed ignores Grundy’s suggestion and grimaces instead. Shoving his glasses back up his nose with a trembling hand, Ed wiggles his toes in his shoes and rocks his heels back and forth, trying to dispel the random energy collected in his body. 

“The men around here need to wear more clothes,” Ed complains as he avoids looking at the aforementioned patrons walking around the club. 

“Why?” Grundy asks, despite the mouthful he should be concentrated on chewing on. 

“It’s…it’s not _appropriate_ ,” he grumbles, running the nail of his thumb over his fingerprint, one finger at a time. 

“Why?” 

“It’s not the done thing. It’s—disrespectful.” 

“Grundy no shirt many times. Also dis-disru—resp—”

“ _Disrespectful_ ,” Ed enunciates, and Grundy mimes him, syllable for syllable, rushing through the sounds so their voices are almost in tandem. 

Grundy takes another massive bite of his sandwich, then a second one. After finishing, he pauses and turns to look at Ed again. 

“Why, though?” 

Ed groans, so loudly and dramatically that he tosses his head back and waves his legs back and forth in anger, as if a small child again, gripping both sides of his own head. “It just _is_ , Butch— _Grundy_ —goodness, I don’t want to know what Butch thought of things like this.” 

“Butch again,” Grundy mumbles. “Grundy friend talks about friends not here too much.” 

“Oh, shut up.”

“Like Penguin-not friend.” 

“ _Shut up!_ ” 

Grundy shrugs and reaches for Ed’s sandwich. “Ladies respectful? Cherry, Lee, other ladies?” 

Ed crunches his brow as he tries to process Grundy’s simplistic sentence. “I don’t really care what the women are wearing,” he announces, wrinkling his nose to get his glasses to stay in place, lingering in his confusion.

Grundy’s quiet for a while. “Ladies are pretty,” he almost whispers, bashful, blinking slowly, like he’s unsure if it was an acceptable admission. 

There’s a long silence as Ed surveys the people of the Narrows milling about. “ _What?_ ” he finally responds, clearly lost, as he crams his glasses into the bridge of his nose so hard it surely leaves a mark. 

Grundy shakes his head. No point repeating it. 

“Grundy friend thinks other men are—”

“ _No!_ ” Ed exclaims, mouth open wide in shock before he clamps a hand over it. “That’s—you can’t _say_ things like that, also it’s _untrue_ —”

“Why?” Grundy asks, taken aback. He frowns and puts the small quarter of his second sandwich down, to explain with his hands, one hand held flat, as he pounds out bullet-points on his other meaty palm. “Ladies, other men. Some think pretty. Grundy sees ladies, notices ladies. Grundy-friend sees men, _notices_ other men.” He repeats the same one-two gesture, then shrugs both his shoulders, signifying disinterest in looking into the concept further. 

“You can _barely_ string together most sentences, yet you’re trying to explain your take on human sexual orientations to me.” Ed cringes at Grundy. 

“Solomon Grundy, born on a Monday, but Solomon Grundy not _stupid_.” 

Ed whips around, glasses sliding back down his nose, his disheveled bangs landing in his eyeline. “Did you just tell a joke?” 

Grundy nods, smiling, and starts chuckling, low and hearty. Before Ed can turn away in indignation, Grundy leans forward and gives him a quick peck on the cheek, close to the edge of his mouth. Ed loses his breath instantly, jaw dropping, as he feels his face heat up. 

“Bahaha! Grundy right! Grundy-friend’s face goes…red…goes…” 

“I’m _blushing_ ,” Ed hisses, rolling his knees up to his chest. 

“Blushing,” Grundy repeats, before giggling more. “Grundy right! Grundy right!” He singsongs his victory a few times, imitating the swaying Ed does when the crowd sings the various fight songs associated with Grundy’s fights. 

“I can’t believe _Butch Gilzean_ was my first kiss with a man,” Ed groans into his palms, sliding his fingers up under his eyeglasses. 

“But Grundy was right.”

Ed is silent for a moment before he admits, “Yes…Grundy is right. _Congrats_.” 

Grundy smiles and pats the top of Ed’s head, before he leaves to seek out more food. “Dinner good! Still need eat,” Grundy says, poking Ed in the chest. 

Ed hangs his head and groans again, digging his fingers into his hair. “My life is a bad joke,” he whines, and Grundy looks back and laughs.

**Author's Note:**

> Ed walking into Cherry's Club, looking at all the guys around him, while "I Want to Be Your Dog" played was a transcendent moment for me and this is *not* the fic I thought I would write about that coding, but I'm happy its the one that resulted from it nonetheless, LOL. Thanks for reading my nonsense! Grundy's adorable.


End file.
